


Monochrome

by Anuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, a tiny bit of jealousy, based on skyeward chemistry screen test, post the well, season one based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7612876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/pseuds/Anuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He didn't think about it at all. There was just her and he needed to do this, needed to somehow wipe away the fact that some other, sleezy, dangerous man was touching her all over because Grant was playing a scanner.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>aka what happens after Skye and Ward rehearsed the married couple routine for an undercover op that didn't go according to Grant's taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monochrome

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by that damn chemistry screen test. You know which one. Written for **evieoh** as a bribe. (Yes, you read that well.)

Grant has been watching Skye the entire evening, calculating carefully how to prevent disaster in the making.

 

He didn't touch his drink, but he wasn't so sure about the glass of champagne she was holding. His intense and very obvious staring at her fit their cover story – she was his rich little wife who grew tired of their marriage. He was trying to be indifferent and failing miserably. In reality he was all kinds of anxious as Fitz rattled into his ear about where in the ballroom he had to go so that sensors hidden in the lining of his jacket would do their thing. The recording of ground layout of the castle (why did the obnoxiously rich guys always prefer old castles built from tons of solid rock?)

 

Fitz was telling him to stay put. Skye could hear the instructions as well, and she was keeping one of the party hosts _busy._ Grant wasn't going to growl aloud, though. That smarmy guy _did not_ just paw her thigh.

 

She didn't even blink. She was either better than he was giving her credit for or completely unaware of the danger she put herself in. She didn't have to go this far. She _didn't have_ to let the guy crawl all over her.

 

He was on the edge of his seat. The suit he was wearing was suddenly constricting, limiting his motions. He was watching all exits, all escape routes, running scenarios behind his eyes. The guy grasped Skye's hand. Just a bit more, Fitz was saying. Grant was halfway out of his seat. Skye didn't even look at him, she was giving The Bad Guy a lovestruck look.

 

He was leading her away and towards the back rooms. _Stay in your place_ , Fitz was instructing. Grant was ready to drop his jacket and just go away, risking everything, from SHIELD's new technology, to his own life – but that also meant risking Skye's life as well, and that was the only thing keeping him put.

 

 _Just a tad bit more_ , Simmons was saying. Grant swallowed. What if he knocked her out? What if she can't defend herself? What if someone is loading her unconscious body into a trunk somewhere outside? What if -?

 

He closed his eyes at the same moment Fitz announced he was done. Grant's eyes snapped open, entire body tensing, ready for action. He was on his way towards the door where he saw her disappear through when she walked back inside – her hair slightly messed up, but otherwise just fine. She firmly grabbed his bicep and steered him towards opposite exit.

 

“Come on,” she was saying.

 

It took a ten minute walk and then an hour long ride, and the adrenaline simply wasn't leaving him. Per Coulson's instructions they were keeping radio silence and retreating towards SHIELD's safe house in the middle of the city. The busier the better, Grant remembered himself explaining to Skye, especially in Europe.

 

They parked two blocks away from the building. It was dark. They played the drunk couple routine – in reality it wasn't that hard because Skye was limping. Grant was gritting his teeth, noticing the smeared make up only now.

 

However he didn't say anything until they were inside and he double locked the big, soundproof door.

 

“Skye -” he began, realizing he was shaking, and that he was shedding the gooddamn suit jacket.

 

She was shaking her head as he grabbed her face to inspect it. He couldn't see bruises. He could see smeared lipstick. His stomach flipped and something inside of him growled as she kept repeating that nothing happened.

 

“Nothing, my ass,” he said, uncharacteristically aggressive and he could feel the beserker rage waking up in him after months.

 

He was useless when it came to protecting her, but there was something even worse.

 

He kept thinking how she held his hand in that Dublin bar and how he refused. How she allowed the target to paw her all over and that just didn't sit well with him, he couldn't rationalize it away by saying it was just a mission. Even though she obviously did defend herself somehow, his mind couldn't be put at peace.

 

“I did _that_ to distract him,” she said. He thought he was seeing red. He realized that he didn't want her to be forced to do this.

 

And he also realized _why._

 

“No,” was all he could say. “ _No_.”

 

“What do you mean, no? I pulled it off, the mission was a succ-”

 

She didn't get to finish what she was going to say because he kissed her.

 

He didn't think about it at all. There was just her and he _needed_ to do this, needed to somehow wipe away the fact that some other, sleezy, dangerous man was touching her all over because Grant was playing a scanner. His kiss was desperate and her lips parted in surprise.

 

There was a tiny voice in his mind reminding him that now he was pawing her all over and was in no way better than The Evil Guy, but that voice remained tiny. She kissed him back after one startled moment where her hands didn't seem to know what to do. Oh God. He thought he was going to drown. Her lips were soft, warm, everything he didn't even know he was dreaming of, and now he simply couldn't stop. If he was trying not to slip his palms down to her ass, she had no reservations about touching him. She was pulling him and they stumbled through the bedroom until they hit the bed and toppled over, which served to finally sober him.

 

What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

Except she grabbed his necktie again and pulled him over herself.

 

The bed was a weird thing, too big for one but not really built for two people, but it was a bed. She was spread under him, kissing him back like there was no tomorrow as adrenaline continued to run rampant through his veins. The beserker incident was still so fresh in his mind; the anger, the rage, the shame – and the absolute need to drown in her softness that she offered after (which he denied to himself then).

 

But now she was working his necktie loose and saying things in a hushed voice and kissing up the column on his throat, and he was _shaking_.

 

“Nothing happened,” she was assuring him even while she was working on taking off his clothes. “I did what you taught me to, and nothing happened.”

He was trying to stop. He should have, because she didn't need this, because he shouldn’t need this, because she was safe, but his mind was still refusing to obey his logic. The fact that he had raised the hem of her dress almost to her waist and that she had spread her legs to cradle him in between was not helping.

 

“Grant,” she breathed. Her chest was rising and falling and he was stuck in the moment when she called his name for the first time and he could barely hear her. He was shaking then too and didn't want her to see it. Now he desperately hoped she wouldn't turn away. “It's okay,” she said, rising up on her elbows to kiss him. It was slow and full of intent, present in this very moment. It was calling him back to right – here – and - now.

 

“I don't want you to have to do that,” he was saying between kisses. God. He could breathe. He felt he was finally able to breathe.

 

“I know,” she said, moving lips against his, staying with him until he opened his mouth and let her inside. She was stealing his breath, but paradoxically his chest felt lighter. “I know.”

 

“I want to protect you,” he said, pushing her back down. He didn't want her to be hurt, he didn't want her to be forced to do things he had done and was so ashamed for. She was nodding as he caressed her face, realizing exactly how _precious_ she was to him.

 

“I want to protect you too,” she was saying with a gentle hand on his cheek, her thumb sliding to his lips. He kissed the tip and she slipped it into his mouth,. He groaned. “Let me protect you, please,” she was saying softly, sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt all the way. He let her slide it down his arms, off his body, kiss him while unzipping his pants. Baring himself never felt so painless, so easy and at the same time so completely terrifying. He was suddenly naked and kneeling next to her, painfully hard. They were both breathing harshly as she wrapped her hand around him.

 

“Oh God, Skye,” he was leaning his face against hers as she unzipped her dress. The feel of her skin under his hands was glorious.

 

He didn't understand how she could be naked in an instant, but she was. And she was pulling him down, so sure of herself, while he was a mess.

 

“Come here,” she said and he joined their lips before carefully sinking down.

 

She helped him enter her. He could hear his own heart hammering in his ears and short, moaning breaths falling from her mouth as he moved. She kissed him when he was all the way inside.

 

“Are you okay?” he needed to ask because her chest was rising and falling so hard and he knew he was big and they've never done this before. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to cause one tiny bit of discomfort, but she was nodding and pulling him closer to kiss him again.

 

“You... feel so amazing,” she said as she nudged him to move and he carefully did so. Hearing that was unreal; he was anything but amazing, his body was just a tool, a finely tuned weapon.

 

But she was touching him in a way that reminded him he was (still) a human.

 

There was nothing he could say where she was saying things. Each move brought a sound, a soft moan or his name broken up with pleasure. He kissed down her neck and pulled her breasts in his mouth and she arched into him, spread her legs and asked him to fuck her harder. And he did, he did everything she was asking for, biting her shoulder and flipped her on her stomach and spread her open as he fucked her from behind as she touched herself.

 

She came suddenly and no matter how much he wanted to go on and on and stay in this moment forever, he came right after her, with a harsh explosion of white behind his eyelids. The world blurred and went away and he found himself on the mattress, his arms tight around her as they both tried to catch their breath.

 

He opened his eyes to her lazy kisses all over his chest.

 

Her smile as she looked at him was everything.

 

“You can always protect me, “ she said, pulling him on top of her again.

 


End file.
